


Lupus et Vulpecula

by SpruceOutOfFive



Series: Sterek Week 2020 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Eventual Romance, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Drama, Post season 5 pre season 6, Sterek Week 2020, Underage Drinking, minorest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpruceOutOfFive/pseuds/SpruceOutOfFive
Summary: The pack has gotten rid of Theo and the Dread Doctors and there's some peace in Beacon Hills again, so Stiles decides to spend a night drinking in the Preserve. One really shouldn't drink and text... right?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Sterek Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984156
Comments: 2
Kudos: 98





	Lupus et Vulpecula

**Author's Note:**

> Sterek Week 2020: Star-Gazing. Thank you Cera for betaing!

It was dark in the Beacon Hills Preserve, and Stiles kept stumbling over every stone and root that laid on the small trail he was following. Still, somehow he made it in one piece to the area where the Hale house used to be before the county took over the land and demolished what the fire had left behind. 

Stiles’ heart ached when he took in the empty clearing. Even though there had been hardly more than ruins left, the complete lack of the looming silhouette was disconcerting. It underlined the fact that the Hale family which had lived, protected and once upon a time even ruled Beacon Hills was there no more.

The only person in town carrying the Hale name was locked in Eichen House. And while Malia was a Hale in blood, she hadn’t grown up in the family, and didn’t identify as one of them. So really, Beacon Hills was practically Haleless.

Stiles sighed and looked up, it was a clear night. That part of the preserve was far away from big, well lit roads and other houses, so there was hardly any light pollution blocking the stars from view. It took him only a moment until he found Vulpecula, the Fox, although he had always known it as the little fox.

Every time Stiles looked at the stars, he tried to find that particular constellation. It had been his favorite ever since the first time his mom had tried to teach him about stars. He’d been a difficult student at first, as young Stiles hadn’t wanted to just sit around and stare at the sky. So, to peak his interest, Stiles’ mom had told him that there was a constellation just like him.

He’d gotten so excited. The stars had become his new favorite thing right then and there, because the young boy had taken his mother’s words a bit too literally. He’d thought there was a constellation where the stars were in the same formation as the moles on Stiles’ face. His mother hadn’t had the heart to correct him, but eventually Stiles too had learned that it was actually his proneness to mischief that was like a little fox’s, and not the markings on his skin that had made his mother compare him to Vulpecula.

Stiles lowered his gaze. Staring at the sky wasn’t any less painful than looking at the empty space where the Hale house used to stand. The vast blackness above reminded both of the loss of his mother and of the fact that Vulpecula and Lupus sat on different celestial hemispheres. The wolf and the fox weren’t any closer in the sky than they were on earth. 

Stiles didn’t know how it was possible that his feelings for Derek had intensified after the man left Beacon Hills. They had barely even existed before, and the little there used to be was easily overshadowed by Stiles’ feelings for Malia and Derek’s relationship with Braeden. But then after Stiles and Malia’s relationship reached its end, and Stiles' relationship with Scott and the pack suffered thanks to Theo’s scheming, he found himself pretty alone. And so his thoughts found Derek.

He hadn’t had the time to moon over the man every hour of the day, nor had he felt like it was necessary, but there were definitely moments when Stiles missed Derek more than anyone. Out of everyone in the pack, Derek would have been the one most likely to listen to Stiles and his doubts about Theo. Derek’s trust had been broken too many times for him not to be wary, he would have been a great ally for Stiles against the two-faced chimera.

That’s when Stiles’ feelings for the man had started taking root. After Theo’s deception came to light and the pack finished dealing with the dread doctors, there was some damn _peace_ in Beacon Hills again, and Stiles found he had much more time on his hands. So his thoughts drifted to Derek. 

Every day.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly the man became the star of his thoughts when he hadn’t even seen him in months. But then again, they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But fond was not the equivalent to falling stupidly in love. Or if it was, shouldn’t it have stricken him the next time he saw Derek? It made no sense that his feelings had grown from a small spark of longing into a full blown _love_ while the center of his affections could very well be on the other side of the world.

Not that there was any proof of Derek being on the other side of the world. It was just as possible that the man had settled the next town over where he could keep an ear out for any supernatural related news. 

But Stiles’ longing heart preferred to think the man was happily exploring the world instead of living in isolation in a place that was only as far from Beacon Hills as his guilt would let him. 

Despite feeling rather miserable whichever direction he looked at, Stiles dug a blanket out of his backpack and spread it over the clearing. He took the flask he'd borrowed from his father out of his pocket and gulped down a good amount of rum. It burned going down. 

It was good.

Stiles spent several minutes, maybe even hours just staring at the sky, occasionally taking a drink out of his bottle. The more he drank the more he thought about Derek. He wished he knew where the man was. He longed to know whether he was staring at the same stars as Stiles or had a view that was completely different. Hell, maybe Derek was somewhere where it was a midday with no stars to be seen at all.

Maybe Stiles should ask.

No. No. Absolutely _not_.

Except, maybe. He wanted to know.

But Derek hadn't been in contact with anyone from the pack since he left.

Though, Stiles hadn't tried to reach out to him either. 

And what harm could it do to ask?

Not about his exact location, but asking about the time was fine, right? 

But how'd he explain that one? 

Maybe he just shouldn't text at all? 

Stiles debated with himself. Then he drank some more. He debated and drank while going back and forth. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to text Derek, but he felt like he couldn't. However, that feeling was slowly dissipating with the help of alcohol and the courage it offered. 

It was a shooting star that eventually ended Stiles' internal debate, he had found a suitable enough question too. 

_< < are you under the northern celestial hemisphere?_

Stiles discarded his phone in exchange to his drink, absolutely sure he would never get an answer to his question. 

He had the flask on his mouth and he almost spilled its contents on himself when his phone vibrated. 

_ >> was that your subtle way to ask how long it would take me to come and help you with whatever problem you have? _

Stiles had a hard time processing the fact that he'd _actually_ gotten an answer, and so fast too. Not a one syllable word either. 

Stiles smiled dumbly in his drunken stupor. Derek may have left the pack but he still cared, he'd have just ignored the text otherwise, maybe even blacklisted his number. 

Stiles wanted to laugh, that's how happy one single text made him. But instead of that Stiles made sure to answer Derek. 

_ << yeah i have a problem you could help me with _

Stiles smirked when he pressed send. Yeah, he absolutely had a problem that Derek’s presence could solve. 

Stiles didn’t have much time to entertain thoughts of Derek coming back and pressing himself against Stiles to help him with his _problem_ because another text came through.

 _> > I'll be there in the morning._

Stiles let out a little whoop and raised the flask in the air. 

"Thank you, shooting star!"

And then he proceeded to promptly pass out. Luckily it wasn't a cold night since his second blanket was still in his backpack. 

* * * * * *

Stiles woke up cold and his body aching, especially his head, to the vibrations of his phone. Still cross-eyed, Stiles picked up said phone and answered without even checking the caller ID. 

"Mm, yeah?" 

_"Where are you?"_

The way too familiar voice that he hadn’t heard in _months_ woke him right up and brought back the memories from the previous night. Still, he couldn't help but ask:

"Derek?" 

_"Yes Stiles, it's me. Now where are you? What's the problem?"_

"I'm at your house- I mean, where the Hale house was," Stiles winced at his words, but if nothing else, maybe it would distract Derek from asking about the problem again. 

Because Stiles really, really didn't want to explain to Derek on the phone how there was no supernatural problem for the man to help with, but instead it had been his alcohol soaked brain’s idea of _flirting_. Not that he wanted to say that face-to-face either. At the very least Stiles could thank the stars, and the cold, for not actually having a problem that morning. 

Because _if_ he had to tell Derek that, “no, there’s no supernatural catastrophe, I made you drive all night so you could help me with my morning wood,” he didn’t actually want to have a morning wood when he said it.

_"Are you safe?"_

"I- Yeah."

 _"Stay there."_

And then the man hung up. 

Shocked, Stiles kept holding his phone against his ear for many more seconds before springing up from the ground. He started packing his things, stuffing the blanket he’d slept on and his dad’s flask back to his bag. He didn’t bother to even try to fold the blanket, his head was too occupied with the fact that Derek was coming to him to find the motoric skills necessary to make it a neat pile.

When he was done Stiles let go of his backpack and sighed. He kept massaging his aching head and wished he’d been smart enough to take some painkillers with him. 

_Hindsight is 20/20._

He didn’t have too much time to focus on that though, before an ink black wolf came leaping from the woods. And a second later, there was a very, _very_ naked man right on Stiles’ face.

“You’re hurt,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing blue. The werewolf’s hands were hovering over Stiles’ shoulders, waiting for permission.

Stiles just stared at Derek in bafflement. Derek was really throwing him off with his actions, and it was _way_ too early to deal with any kind of enigmas regarding the man.

“Y-yeah,” Stiles said, clearing his throat. “It’s the hangover,” he stated and motioned towards his hurting head. Derek caught his hand midair and brought it between his palms. Stiles’ eyes closed and a sigh of content escaped from his lips when Derek took his pain. 

A few seconds of bliss later the wolf let go of Stiles’ hand and took a step back. 

“Why are you hungover in the middle of the preserve when you’re having a supernatural problem?” The words were barely more than a growl now, the werewolf’s anger seeping through.

Stiles opened his eyes and was confronted not only by Derek’s angry eyebrows but also his very naked, very fantastic body. And nope, Stiles wouldn’t be able to handle that.

So, Stiles crouched and started digging through his backpack. 

“Just, wait for a second,” Stiles muttered when it seemed like Derek was going to start demanding that Stiles stops doing whatever he was doing and answers the question.

Stiles stood up and threw a blanket at the werewolf. Derek caught it without a problem and luckily took the hint and wrapped himself in it. 

Intimidating naked glory dealt with? Check. A set of murder brows staring down on Stiles? Not yet…

“Okay, so, just, don’t get mad?” Stiles grimaced at his own words. It sounded like a great start.

“There’s no supernatural threat that you needed my help with,” Derek stated. Because that was definitely a statement and not a question.

Stiles scratched his neck, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under the stare and possessing the knowledge that there was only a _slim_ chance of getting out of the conversation without Derek learning about the flame Stiles held for Derek.

"In my defense, I _was_ having a problem and the drunk me didn't really think you'd take it like that. But yeah, we don't actually have a supernatural emergency right now.”

"Then why'd you ask about my location?” 

"Technically, I asked about the celestial hemisphere, which yes, does translate to location too, but I was more interested in knowing about the stars.” Stiles said, his hand still on his neck. 

"The stars?” Derek had raised his brow and was now looking at Stiles dubiously.

“Yeah, like, which stars and constellations you could see from where you were.”

“You had a problem and the solution was to ask what stars I could see?” Derek’s eyebrow was really judging Stiles at this point.

"I was drunk! And, okay it wasn't really a problem, more like just me being curious.”

"What was the problem then?” 

"Huh? Didn’t I just say it wasn’t one?" Stiles asked, baffled. 

"But you had one, the one you referred to in your text. And you said I could help you with it.”

Stiles went speechless. Or more accurately, he clammed up. Because there was absolutely no way he’d be able to tell Derek that it had been his drunk ass’ way to flirt with the man. 

Unfortunately, Stiles' fair complexion and bodily reactions betrayed him, broadcasting very clearly the nature of the problem Stiles had been thinking about when he texted the man. Stiles was about to start explaining, or maybe even apologizing, when a set of lips covered his own. 

The kiss was sweet in the beginning but when Stiles’ brain caught up with what was happening he couldn’t keep himself from deepening it. And based on the way Derek mimicked the motion, he didn’t seem to mind either.

When they finally had to break up the kiss to breathe, Stiles was proud to notice that Derek too was flushed and panting.

“I think I have been suffering from the same problem as you did last night,” the wolf hummed, resting his forehead gingerly against Stiles’. Any and all careful movements were thrown out of the window with that admission though, Stiles made sure of that. 

And if Stiles, in his haste to reconnect their lips, lunged himself at Derek hard enough to make them both slip and fall, well, _good_.

Unlike on the sky, on earth the wolf and the fox did get to share their space.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [tumblr](https://spruceoutoffive.tumblr.com/)


End file.
